


his gun, his head held high

by christchex



Series: prettiest thing [4]
Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, outlaw au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:47:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21699472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/christchex/pseuds/christchex
Summary: The problem is that Michael has a temper. The problem is that some men are monsters. The problem is that some monsters shouldn't be allowed to live.
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Series: prettiest thing [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1484762
Comments: 12
Kudos: 45
Collections: Holiday Giftfest of Doom





	his gun, his head held high

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Winged_Fool](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winged_Fool/gifts).



> Written for my massive holiday fit challenge of doom, where I write a new fic/ficlet for every day of December. Originally posted to my tumblr.

The problem was that some men had trouble not running their mouths. The problem was that some men just had to be loud, had to follow them out of the diner, had to yell obscenities and had to yell some things at Alex that he never should have had to hear again, or at all.

The problem was that Michael could have a short fuse and he had a quick trigger finger if he felt like it.

Really, the world was lucky that he had Alex by his side, or else there’d be a lot fewer men in it. Michael would probably be in jail by this point too, if Alex wasn’t by his side. He refused to think about where he’d be if he and Alex hadn’t ran and ran and ran.

“Not now Guerin,” Alex had whispered, hot against his ear as he steered an angry Michael away from the man and towards their truck. 

Michael followed, rage barely contained, and slid into the truck’s passenger side.

“He can’t say that shit to you,” were his only words.

There were a few other things he didn’t think the man should get away with either, like the way his wife cowered as he started raising his voice, the way his son stared at the two of them as they held hands, how that same son turned his bruised eyes away as his father hurled vitriol and spittle at them.

The problem was that some men just shouldn’t be on the planet, shouldn’t be allowed to exist if all the bring is hate, and Michael has no problem deciding if someone’s life is worthy. He decided it once with a head full of pain and a hand smashed to shit, he could decide it with a clearer head and steadier hands.

Alex’s hands were steadier, his aim better, his anger a slow simmering thing rather than Michael’s which burned hot and fast and faded.

“We got to be smarter about this Guerin,” Alex said as they sat in the diner parking lot, engine idling as they spoke. “We have to make sure this is clean, if we’re going to do what I think you want to do.”

The problem is that they fell in love and Alex’s daddy tried to stand in the way, tried to do much more than that, and neither of them could forget the sight of blood on concrete, of a hammer striking a hand, of Alex’s crying face and his father’s satisfied grin.

Some men just shouldn’t be in the world.

They drove through town. It was small but close enough to major roads that new people driving through town wasn’t much to write home about. A dirty red pickup truck with three familiar figures drove by not long after they left the diner. A careful distance and a last minute turn kept them out of sight but kept the truck in their sights. A small ranch style home, meticulously maintained and devoid of personality met them at the end of the chase.

“We’ve got to be careful,” Alex said as they drove by the rancher, as they returned to their motel, the one they’d be staying at for the last two night. 

They curled up in bed and went to sleep. They stayed in town the next day, returning to the diner to apologize to the waitress for the scene, to a coffee shop, to a bookstore. They returned to the motel, to their borrowed bed, to each other’s arms.

They checked out the next morning, talked to the woman at the front desk about national parks and their plans, about how they’re taking a long, wandering road trip before their classes started up again after winter break. They got into their truck and left the town limits, visible for all the world to see.

The problem was that they let their anger sit differently, but neither could take an insult hurled at the other. The problem was that Michael had vowed to rid the world of every monster he found and Alex was damn good at planning. The problem was that this wasn’t a problem for either of them, not really.

So when their truck crept back into town under the cover of night, when it idled blocks away from that ranch style house with it’s immaculate lawn, when Alex snuck into a house and pulled the trigger at a drunk man sleeping on a lazy boy, when he got out quickly with gloves still on and a gun in a dead man’s hand, and when Alex met Michael streets away in the opposite direct that he came… well, some monster shouldn’t be on this earth and Alex Manes knew how to spot a monster.

And when Alex made his way back to their truck, Michael met him with a kiss. They made their way out of town, back to the campsite they rented with take out in their hands. They stayed there for the pre-paid for nights. They camped under the stars, wrapped up together in heart, body, and soul. Alex whispered a soft “Merry Christmas” and Michael shouted a loud “I love you” and they enjoyed their holiday with peace in their hearts and minds.

The problem was that they slayed two monsters now and they never wanted to stop.


End file.
